


Avgolemono

by MnemonicMadness



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, Hurt/Comfort, I am proud of myself, Light Angst, M/M, Okay a bit more than light angst maybe, POV Hannibal, Pneumonia, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Sick Will, Sickfic, This is the least violent thing I've ever written to this date, Will Loves Hannibal, face kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 14:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10721481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MnemonicMadness/pseuds/MnemonicMadness
Summary: While recovering from the fall, Will gets sick.





	Avgolemono

**Author's Note:**

> For [cannibalharpsichord](http://cannibalharpsichord.tumblr.com/), as hopefully a small comfort, because colds suck. (Btw, if anyone is looking for an excellent Hannibal blog... just saying.)
> 
> All I own are the typos and grammatical mistakes (English isn't my first language, so if you see any, please let me know?).
> 
> The title, avgolemono, is a Greek version of chicken soup (yes, I may or may not have spent the last half an hour looking at international chicken soup recipes, trying to choose the least silly name).

Still not quite used to the constant motion of the waves rocking their small sailing yacht, even the bone-deep exhaustion clinging to his battered body hadn’t allowed Hannibal to find truly restful sleep, often not managing more than a light doze before he was jostled into wakefulness again. But in this precise moment, he was grateful for it.

The shuffle of footsteps outside his cabin was barely audible and hearing it, knowing there was only one person it could have come from, he got to his feet as quickly as the gunshot wound allowed, barely taking the time to turn on the bedside lamp before opening his door to a lovely but worrying sight.

Will’s hair was matted with sweat, the shirt he slept him clinging to his body, his face as pale as it had been whilst he had been in the throes of encephalitis all those years ago, eyes lidded but still inhumanly blue in the moonlight. What worried him, was his unfocused gaze, laboured breathing and the way he leant against the wall, barely keeping himself upright. Clearly, the light fever he’d been developing over the last few days had taken a sudden turn for the worse.

Rushing forward, he wrapped his arms around his beloved before he could fall, heedless of his own wounds but careful not to jostle Will’s shoulder unnecessarily or grip his back too tightly where the sharp rocks had left deep gashes in his skin when the sea had tossed him against them, when he’d protected Hannibal - unconscious from having taken the brunt of the initial impact into the Atlantic’s icy embrace - from their razor-like edges. Will shivered in his arms, his body searing an invisibly mark against his own where they touched, burying his forehead into the space where Hannibal’s shoulder met his neck, too-warm breath huffing against his skin as he heard him murmur his name into his throat.

“I’m here, _mylimasis_ , come with me now. Just a few more steps.” he whispered softly into the younger man’s damp hair.

Will made a quiet noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper as Hannibal gently pulled him along, manoeuvring them both backwards into his cabin before coaxing Will to lie down in Hannibal’s bed. Perhaps, if he handled this situation right, Will wouldn’t leave here again, from now on sharing his bed instead of choosing the benches in the common area as his place to rest.

Blue eyes were still fixed on him when he pulled his blanket to cover the feverish body. A shiver of delight ran through him when as he tried to step away to get their medical supplies, a hand shot out from underneath the covers, seizing his wrist to prevent him from leaving, accompanied by a small sound of distress, the eyes observing him wide and teary. Will made a lovely sight like this, vulnerable, pliant and needy, and once, not all too long ago, he would have been tempted to keep him this way. The temptation was still present, but tainted by worry and easy to resist. He had pushed Will for long enough, had seen enough to know now that he would never be able to predict him, proving that Will was indeed his equal. Now, honesty, or at least as much of it as he could muster, was all he had left, honesty and the hope that Will would choose out of his own free will to remain by his side.

Lifting his arm, he gently pried Will’s fingers loose from his wrist, kissing the warm knuckles in consolation. “I will be just a moment, I promise you.”

After a few seconds, Will blinked slowly, his hand finally relaxing and slipping out of Hannibal’s grasp. Casting one more look at the man lying in his bed, making the savage and possessive part of him rumble in satisfaction, he hurried to gather the ship’s already quite raided first aid kit and a glass of water.

Once he entered his cabin again, Will’s gaze found him instantly again, only to be averted as wet and painful sounding coughs rattled the wounded body that looked so fragile now, bathed in the warm glow of his bedside lamp, cradled by crispy white sheets. Crossing the room to kneel down beside him on his - _their_ \- bed, he waited out the coughing fit before grasping him again, gently pulling his almost limp body into a more upright position against his chest, ignoring the distinctive twinge of a few of his own stitches ripping, he could redo those later. Will flinched away when Hannibal touched the cold glass to his lips, so he lifted his other hand, carding his fingers through the impossibly soft, sweaty curls while nudging Will’s head back towards the glass, pressing his own temple against Will’s warmer one and heaving a sigh of relief as his companion finally started to drink in careful sips. Will smelled of sea salt and fever, of Hannibal’s bed and the specific mix of natural pheromones that gave everyone their unique scent, Will’s being the most delicious one he’d ever smelled despite the fever and now it was finally untainted by that atrocious aftershave. Will’s shiver at the cold liquid running down his throat masked his own.

He took Will’s temperature, which was higher than he’d like, but not all too alarming or in urgent need to be lowered just yet. What worried him more were the wet coughing fits he suffered every few minutes and even without a stethoscope, he could tell that this was a pneumonia.

The empath made that same, charming noise of discomfort again when Hannibal moved away to reach for the package of broad-spectrum antibiotics they both were already taking, knowing that increasing the dosage and keeping him hydrated was all he could to for his beloved while still on the ship. It would have to be enough until they reached land in a few days and he could get them more - proper - supplies.

It was no easy feat to get Will who was still semi-conscious at best to take the tablets, but at least this time, he drank the water much more willingly and let himself be eased down onto the mattress without struggling, clinging to Hannibal as he settled down next to him, partially to be able to attend to him and monitor his well-being, partially out of the selfish desire to indulge in this opportunity to hold Will close for hours.

Just as he was about to turn off the bedside lamp, Will’s breathing quickened between coughs, attempting to sit up but too weak to do so.

“Hannibal?” His voice was rough as if he hadn’t spoken for days.

“I’m here, Will.” But the other didn’t seem to notice him, blue eyes glazed and unfocused, frantically searching whatever it was he saw for him, not reacting to the gentle hand Hannibal laid on his shoulder.

“ _Hannibal? Hannibal!_ ” Will kept calling for him, tone getting louder and increasingly panicked, every so often interrupted by the coughs shaking his body, oblivious to the man he was calling murmuring comfort and sweet nothings into his ear, or to the hot tears that had begun to run down his face, or the careful hands wiping at them. To the soft lips kissing them away, savouring their taste.

Hannibal’s heart, a heart many would foolishly claim did not exist while in fact it beat strong and alive for the feverish man beside him, clenched painfully as yet another fit shook Will’s body, his shouts now dying down to indiscernible muttering, small sobs and desperate pleading, although at least he was calmer now, enabling Hannibal to carefully wrap his arms around him again and pull him to his chest, resting his cheek on the top of Will’s head, until he made out the quiet words:

“Can’t live without him. Can’t live without him. Can’t...”

Pulling away just enough to place his hands on Will’s cheeks, tilting his face upwards until he could look him in the eyes, even if Will’s were still glazed and seemed to look through him and his own were stinging with tears.

“Will, _mylimasis_. You won’t have to. I’m here, I’m with you. My beloved Will, I will always be with you, I will always be where you can find me, I promised you that.”

And finally, some focus returned to the younger man’s eyes, a far cry from their usual intensity, but Hannibal found the recognition in them he hadn’t realised just how desperately he’d longed for.

“Hannibal?”

“I’m here, Will.” He said again, repetition easier to comprehend for a feverish brain. “I’m with you.”

“Please don’t... don’t... don’t die. Just... Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t. I’m yours, I will never leave you, I would rather tear out my own heart while it still beats, that I promise you. Now you should rest, try to sleep if you can. I will stay right here, with you.”

Will nodded carefully before all tension left him, only wincing as he had to cough yet again and then leaning into his touch as Hannibal began to slowly stroke his hair again, his breathing soon matching the motion. Even sickly pale and delirious with fever, he was still beautiful in both appearance and mind, but the more Hannibal looked at him, determined to enjoy this moment of having him so close and open, the more difficult it became to push his worry aside. His focus shifted to the smell of infection, to the unhealthy heat Will’s body emanated, to the wet coughs, the undeniably laboured breathing and their quickly dwindling stash of antibiotics. There really wasn’t much he would be able to do if Will’s condition were to suddenly worsen again and even the mere thought of losing Will now was his anathema, and to something as simple and mundane as a pneumonia, himself watching, unable to treat it because of insufficient supplies...

Tears stung in his eyes again and this time they quietly fell into his sleeping love’s hair.

“Please, Will, don’t leave me either.”, he whispered. “I find myself unable to remember what it felt like not to love you. God or the devil or Jack may take anything from me, my freedom, my dignity, even my life, as long as I have you by my side. To live without you would mean to not live at all.”

Just as he was about to press a kiss into Will’s hair, the empath proved yet again that Hannibal could try his entire life and would still fail to predict him. A weak, trembling hand touched his cheek to guide him downwards. The meeting of their lips was barely more than a breath, almost too light to be felt, there and gone again and Will’s hand fell away, leaving him to stare at the ghost of a smile gracing Will’s lips, Will who had never even opened his eyes and now carefully shifted impossibly closer to Hannibal, holding onto him with his remaining strength, choosing to allow Hannibal to hold him back. The discomfort from their wounds was a small price to pay for their closeness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it? Maybe I'll expand this once I've finished some other fics I'm working on.
> 
> Any comment would absolutely make my day!!!


End file.
